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animepreferences · 4 years

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P R E F E R E N C E # 5 - T H A T T I M E O F T H E M O N T H

A K U T U G A W A

It was very rare that your usual calm and cool composure was compromised, but every once in awhile life got to you and made you lose your bearings. This usually happened when you were under an immense amount of stress or you were on your period. In this particular moment, it was currently your period. “Y’know what? No, I’m over this. There is nothing to eat in this god forsaken house and I KNOW I just went grocery shopping.” Slamming the cabinet doors close, you would let out an exasperated exhale as you threw yourself down at your shabby kitchen table. Little did you know that Akutagawa had currently just arrived home with takeout and groceries. He wasn’t dumb, afterall. He knew what time of month it was by the way you had bit his head off earlier in the day about something rather trivial. That and he had noticed that you had stripped the sheets on the bed first thing in the morning. “Rough day?” He would chuckle, walking right past you as he placed the groceries on the counter. “You have no idea. I’m so slumped. And annoyed.” You would grumble, ignoring how your boyfriend continued to chuckle. Why was he laughing at you? “I’m sure you are. That’s why I picked up a couple of things at the store for you. You can take a peek if you want,” Aku would say nonchalantly as he tossed a bag onto the table, never once turning around to watch you. Letting out a small ‘hmph’, curiosity would win you over in the end and you would end up just having to look in the bag. It was then you would gasp. A bouquet of flowers, a substantial amount of chocolate, and some painkillers would sit before you. You hadn’t even told him and yet he somehow knew. He always knew, really. That was one of the things you loved most about him: he picked up on the little things that meant a lot to you. “Aku...” You would start, standing from your seat to approach him in the kitchen. “How-I mean-thank you-I,” You would stutter over your words, struggling to find the right ones to say. “I hope you feel better soon. Maybe later I can draw you a bath?” Aku would murmur, halting his actions to pull you into his arms and press a kiss to the crown of your head. “Perhaps, you could just cuddle me instead.” You would suggest, melting into his touch as he pulled you in even closer and tighter, mostly so you wouldn’t have to see the blush that was creeping ever so slightly to his cheeks. “Whatever you want my precious Y/N.”

C H U U Y A

“Stop it.” You would growl, crossing your arms across your chest as you stared straight forward, avoiding eye contact at all costs. “Pardon?” Chuuya would ask rather innocently, cocking his head to the side as he stared at you with complete and total bewilderment. “Stop.” You would say again, finally snapping your head up to stare at him, eyes cold. “You-Just-Could-You-Please—Ugh-Just—“ You would stumble over your words as you stared at him miserably. He clearly had got caught in a rainstorm on his way home from work and due to this he was drenched from head to toe, water dripping in a messy puddle around him. It wasn’t the mess you were worried about, however. He could drip mud and water throughout the entire house for all you cared. It was the way he looked. His wet hair framing his face perfectly, his clothes clinging to his open chest in the most seductive way. Your damn period always made your...er...hormones a little wacky meaning you got a little bit too turned on by Chuuya when you were menstruating. Not that you weren’t typically turned on by your boyfriend, but when you were on your period your emotions were heightened tremendously. “Y/N, are you?” Chuuya would giggle darkly knowing exactly what your black eyes and nervous stutters meant. “You have no idea.” You would groan, throwing your head back as you closed your eyes. “Mmm, just say the word and I’m all yours, baby.” Peeling the wet shirt from his body, you would nearly choke out a sob throwing your head in your hands, the image before you too beautiful. “Y/N?” Chuuya would say, urgency coloring his tone as he tried to pry your hands from your face, but to no avail. “I’m on my period. I can’t.” You would finally sigh, peeking at him through your fingers, cheeks flushed. “Oh, yeah! I forgot you get super horny when you’re on your period,” Chuuya laughed more to himself than anything as he walked over to you, draping the blanket that hung over the back of the couch over your shoulders, ruffling your fringe playfully. You could hear his steps fading into the background and finally felt it was safe to raise your head knowing that he was no longer around. When he returned, he held a heating pad in his hand, with a steaming mug of hot tea in the other, clothes completely dry and comfy. “For you.” He would say, handing you both things as he sat next to you on the couch, careful to sit far away. “You’re more than welcome to come cuddle with me, but I don’t want to make you even more miserable. I know you can’t resist me during these times,” wiggling his eyebrows, he would shriek when a pillow would be sent flying to his face. “Arrogant prick.”

D A Z A I

“Is it too late to take you up on that double suicide?” You would moan, arms clutching your abdomen as you spoke to your loving boyfriend. You two were currently in bed with no intentions on leaving. Why? It was simple. It was that special time of the month for you which meant cramps. Not to downplay anyone else’s cramps, but your cramps were particularly bad. No, not bad, awful. No, not awful, atrocious. Absolutely, positively atrocious. “C’mere.” Ignoring your request Dazai would pull you against his chest, resulting in you to hum contently as his warm arms would encompass you in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry you’re feeling poorly.” he would whisper in your ear, hands sliding down your body till they got to your lower abdomen. “Is this where they are hurting you, my love?” He would inquire softly, pressing a short kiss to the space behind your ear sending shivers down your spine in the process. Nodding weakly in response, Dazai would take this as consent to begin to massage the skin softly. At first you would wince, but then it would begin to bring you relief, his skilled fingers working through the low aches that brewed inside you like a tsunami. “That feels nice,” you would sigh, relief trickling over you at last as your head lolled against his chest. “That’s it, Y/N. Close your eyes and let me take care of you.” Dazai would coo, loving how your body relaxed against his touch, knowing that he was bringing you a relief to this pain that you had never quite found before. You could feel your eyes growing heavy, your body growing warm. A deep slumber was emerging from the shadows but the moment felt too perfect, too relaxing for you to fall asleep even though if it was what you needed most right now. “Quit fighting it, you need to sleep.” Dazai would say knowingly as if he could read your mind. “I’ll be here when you wake again, I promise my sweet rose.” With those words, you would snuggle even deeper into his chest honing in on the magic his fingers were working allowing you to get some rest for the first time in days. You had asked yourself a million times the question that surfaced in your head before falling asleep: how had you grown so lucky to have him in your life? What had you deserved to have the heart of Osamu Dazai? You may never know but you didn’t care. You were just happy to have him.

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another-snape-story · 4 years

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Start of Term Banquet

Chapter IX

The day when school was to open its gates for the students has come, and with it came a strange uneasy feeling, which made you doubt whether you should ever sign up for this.

Wrapped in a blanket, you shielded yourself from the sunlight, which started seeping through a narrow slit between fringed heavy curtains, wishing you could stay in bed till next week – or better till next year – and skip this whole procedure of meeting children and – what seemed even more frightening – running your first class. You grabbed a pillow and pulled it over your face, letting out a loud groan of displeasure. A moment later the pillow landed back on a mattress with a hard flop and rolled across the bed, in your opinion – prohibitively wide for one person. After a split second of balancing on its edge, it fell on the floor. You didn’t care. Staring at the ceiling, you regretted staying at Snape’s for too long last night, but once this thought crossed your mind, your lips stretched in a contented smile. No, this was definitely not something you should ever regret.

One of your feet touched the rug, and soon the other one joined it, when you finally found strength to sit upright. Getting out of bed has never been an easy task for you, especially on days like this. The only thing that made you up was a chance to meet your fellow Professor, who could probably give you a piece of advice on how to survive your first day of teaching. You didn’t feel like acting all thorny and standoffish around him; you already trusted him enough to share some of your insecurities. It just happens sometimes: you meet a person, and on a level deeper than human perception allows, you somehow realize you fit together, even though you might know not much about each other or even nothing at all.

“He’s certainly not there,” you told yourself, turning the handle on the staff room door, but still hoping he was. The more space of the room the opening door revealed, the less of a hope there left within your heart, which was replaced with bitter disappointment, once you stepped inside and didn’t find him. Regrettably, there was a short stature of Professor Flitwick instead. Not that you didn’t like him – otherwise, he managed to combine intelligence with sense of humor in such a pleasingly ingenious and simple manner, you couldn’t resist his captivating charm – but at the moment you just didn’t feel enthusiastic about any abstract conversation.

“A little nervous, ain’t you?” he smiled from above the armrest of a couch.

“I am…” taken aback, you admitted hesitantly. “How did you…?”

“I always feel nervous on the first day of the term, even after all these years,” he replied in a squeaky voice.

Later you thought it was even good you met no other than this tiny man. He definitely was a better person to discuss the issue which bothered the both of you, him – clearly – to a much lesser extent. He persuaded you that there was nothing to worry about and, considering indifference the worst of vices, expressed his approval of taking things close to one’s heart.

As much as Professor Flitwick helped you overcome excitement, there still remained something that gave you no peace. It was getting dark; the students were about to arrive. Busy with start of term banquet preparations, seemingly each of your colleagues scurried through the castle making sure everything was ready; even school ghosts gathered in the Entrance Hall to greet newcomers, but Snape never showed up. Neither actually did Dumbledore, yet his absence didn’t upset you in a slightest. Hoping to chase annoying thought away, you roamed the Great Hall, admiring the view of the floating candles under the ceiling enchanted to look like the sky above.

“Enjoying yourself?” a voice you had no trouble recognizing asked from behind your back.

“Just loitering around,” you turned to face the man wearing his regular black suit and impassive expression. No matter how hard you tried not to smile, the corners of your lips raised up slightly, and so – unable to resist – did his.

“Take your place, the students are already here.”

“Are they?” This news surprised you, since nothing betrayed someone’s presence.

“Come on,” Professor Snape hurried you, heading for the High Table. “You don’t want the crowd to trample you down,” his hand leisurely reached for your waist and froze mere inches to the small of your back, never venturing to come in contact with your body.

As the last word was spoken, children broke through huge oak doors floating the Hall and filling the air with cheerful buzz of excited voices. Amazed, you watched their chaotic maneuvers between benches in attempt to get a better place at the table, realizing how close you were to being engulfed in this swirling mass.

“I swear, Professor, if you appeared a minute later…”

“Save your gratitude for occasion more suitable in the circumstances,” he interrupted you in his typical monotonous manner, scanning the crowd with the look of anthracite eyes, which now seemed even darker than usual.

Attention switched from the man’s face, you noticed your other colleagues joining in. Headmaster was smiling broader than ever. Professor Quirrell caught his foot on the ends of his robe and almost ran into Professor Hooch, who was forced to grab him – overbearing enough – to jolt him back to balance. Aurora Sinistra, Astronomy Professor you got along quite well, happened to find her place on the other side of the table, so you had no choice but to stay where you stood, moreover, you had no reason for complaining – the company this evening prepared for you was more than acceptable.

“I can’t spot Professor McGonagall,” you whispered, leaning closer to Snape’s ear, as if it was a confidential matter.

“Of course, you can’t, because she’s not here,” was his plain answer.

Before you could open your mouth to ask for more details, the oak doors swung open again, and a line of paired up first-years entered the Hall, escorted by the one you were just talking about. Professor McGonagall led them up the teacher’s table, where the Sorting Hat was already awaiting to put children in their Houses.

“L-look at t-that young m-man in round g-glasses,” Quirinus perked up. “This is Harry P-P-Potter! I m-met him in the L-leaky C-C-Cauldron on the 31st of July! H-he was…”

“What were you doing in the Leaky Cauldron, Quirrell? You said you had some business in the Ministry,” Snape cut him short, focused on identifying the legend among other children. It wasn’t hard – he was the only one wearing round glasses. This very moment, rubbing his forehead, the boy looked in your direction. He seemed lost and confused, just like his peers waiting for their turn to be sorted.

“I d-did,” he confirmed, “it was earlier t-that d-day.”

“Don’t mind a glass of sherry before meeting authorities? You never stop surprising me,” Snape snapped disapprovingly.

“N-no, I just…”

“Harry Potter!” McGonagall called the boy’s name, and all the people – students and teachers – stared at him in at once settled silence. While the Hat took its time to decide in which House Harry belonged, Quirinus stuttered something under his breath, probably, trying to find an excuse, but no one was interested.

“Shut up, Quirrell!” you heard Snape’s annoyed hissing, and he stopped half-word, his face – paler than before – contrasting with purple of his huge turban.

“Not Slytherin, eh?” asked the Sorting Hat from the boy’s head, which almost disappeared in its shabby depth, and the man beside you grunted contemptuously, drawing your attention. But once Harry Potter was announced to be a Gryffindor, unimpressed, he pursed his lips, while the rest loudly cheered the little wizard, who walked toward his table looking like fainting from excitement.

“Wanted to have him in Slytherin?” you teased your gloomy colleague.

“Why would I even care?” Professor’s face twisted in disgust, and you giggled.

“So, you said, 31st of July. Wasn’t it that very day when Gringotts break-in took place?” you addressed Quirrell, when the last student was sorted and the feast began.

Snape, who was sitting between the two of you, frowned. “Indeed,” he confirmed.

“Did you see something strange?” your bent over the table trying to get a better view of the man’s face from behind tall black figure.

“S-strange?” he muttered, avoiding your curious glance. “I d-don’t think s-s-so. It was j-just as us-sual.”

“Just – as – usual,” Snape recited thoughtfully. “And how often do you drop in there, Quirrell… to judge about commonness of that place?”

“W-well I’ve b-been there a c-couple of t-times when I needed to f-find another b-book for my w-w-werewolves’ r-research and…”

“I thought you were studying vampires?” Snape clarified in a bored tone.

“I always t-try to l-learn something n-new, to k-keep abreast, you know…” Quirrell returned to his meal.

“So you must’ve heard they procreated a new dragon as a result of crossbreeding!” you exclaimed delightedly.

Snape’s brow arched in astonishment, as he slowly turned his head with ‘oh really?’ expression on his face to check if you’ve suddenly gone insane, or he just overheard something. Leaning on the carved backrest of your chair, you gave him a sign not to dispute, so that Quirrell couldn’t see it.

“Romanian Longhorn and Swedish Short-Snout,” curious what you were up to, Snape played along, naming first two species that came to his mind.

“Exactly! They called it Snout-Horn, but still can’t come to an agreement about its belonging to one of the countries. The argument maxed out recently! Taking into account that the dragon hatched in Slovakia, it’s quite a hot topic!”

“N-no m-matter, h-how they c-call it – it’s a b-b-breakthrough anyway!” Quirrell acknowledged, without showing much interest.

“Its horn grew way too long – and therefore too heavy – so the creature barely holds its head,” you continued vigorously. “Can you imagine!”

A master of self-control, Snape couldn’t help letting out a short snort, not believing he participated in this nonsense.

“What for was all that dragon thing?” he asked you after the feast, on the way back to your chambers.

“He never gives comprehensive answers,” you shared your assumption. “Just wanted to find out, whether he’s a fool or just pretends.”

Snape walked silently beside you.

“I got the same apprehension,” he admitted finally.

“You think he knows the one who did it? I mean… Gringotts break-in?”

“Too fast with conclusions, ain’t we?” a ghost of smile crossed the man’s face and vanished as fast as it appeared.

He was pretending too. You knew this question bothered him even more than yourself, but he wasn’t going to discuss it with you. Why? Didn’t he trust you? Did he consider it not your business? You felt hurt. You really cared about the Stone and the safety of the whole school, but no one seemed to appreciate it.

“Perhaps… Good night, Professor,” disappointed, you gave him a harsh nod.

Snape realized he’s just pushed you away – which was the last thing he wanted – but being not ready for such outcome, he couldn’t find words to fix this stupid situation.

“Good night, Professor,” he answered stiffly, surpassing your formality, and headed down the corridor to his private rooms, scolding himself for being too wary; and you remained standing where he left you – upset, frustrated.

Before offence could squeeze your heart and poison your soul with sadness and misery, Snape stopped in his tracks.

“Don’t let him become aware of your suspicions,” he said quietly, his head just half a turn in your direction.

“Professor?” you called him softly. Desperate notes in your tone prompted him raise his glance on you, and what he saw made him feel relieved at once. You were smiling.

“Rest,” he smiled back. “Your next day’s going to be full of impressions.”

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zedpercyfan · 4 years

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The Sirens of Cerulean | Part One

A City in the Fog

A thick fog was out one cold late afternoon along the Cerulean coast; it hung and swirled. One of Cerulean City’s oldest structures, an ancient white lighthouse, stood atop a cliff, standing as a guardian to guide ships away from the perils of the rocks below.

Tracey Sketchit was the lighthouse’s current keeper, the original one having retired some years back, leaving the position open. Tracey had been without much of a consistent job and took it since the pay was so good, plus it came with housing attached. There was also plenty of Pokémon that passed, and the occasional wandering Trainer that could keep him company or let him draw them and their Pokémon, a favorite pastime of his.

The black-haired man sighed, it was afternoon and he was bored as he finished sipping his tea. He grabbed his sketchbook, wandered upstairs and went outside to the balcony – the wind rustled his clothes and hair as he stood. “Right, anything that wants to be drawn…?” he thought aloud. Some migrating Wingull roosted nearby amongst the usual coast residents of Pidgeys, its evolutions, and the local Corsolas, Poliwags, and others that lived there. Tracey smiled, and began to scribble away as his Marill joined alongside him.

He continued his penmanship until a low, soft, feminine voice was heard, a kind of singing. Tracey’s hand stopped, and rested the thick book against the wet, rusted railing. He scratched his chin thoughtfully whilst Marill blinked in wonderment, her mouth agape. He pointed a finger toward the ocean. “Y’know,” said Tracey. “I really do think that they’re out there.” Marill looked over, eyebrow raised. “Well, you know what I mean.” He leaned in and whispered. “Come on…I know that you can feel their presence as well…”

He did not get an answer, as Marill was looking out towards the fog covered ocean where the voice could be heard. Tracey looked down, only to see that down below, the Pokémon looked the exact same way. The man blinked but said nothing. He just followed their gaze and remained silent as they all peered into the wispy soup.

OoOoO

Later that afternoon, a young man of about his mid-twenties came slowly trudging along the dirt path from the nearby forest. With a Pikachu resting on his shoulder, the man walked with a carefree nature, his black shirt and pants were simple, but what was most strange of all was that he had a dark blue coat – almost like a cape – on him for warmth.

He seemed to wander aimlessly till he heard a sultry sound, it carried along the breeze. It was delicate yet packed a pleasant spine chilling evocation with it. “Wow, that’s some voice,” he said, mildly awed. He looked to his Pikachu. “What do you say, buddy? Shall we follow this strange but alluring voice?”

“Pi Pikachu!” squeaked the mouse in agreement. Ash hummed in agreement.

He followed against the sea breeze till he reached the water – his feet stopping as soon as he felt rock beneath him. He looked out across the rocks where the sea met land. “So this is Cerulean City?” he said. “Well, the air is salty enough for it.” He shivered in the breeze and began to notice that the light was fading. “Almost nightfall…can’t stay out here. Brr…” Pikachu whimpered and buried himself in his Master’s cloak. He looked around and saw the giant lighthouse to his left, behind it stood the city itself. Slowly and carefully, he began to trudge toward it.

A short walk later he reached the city and found his way to an inn. A rather shabby looking place built out of grey stone. The raven haired man wandered in and tapped the bell for service. “Coming!” a voice yelled. A girl who looked barely past nineteen came sprinting from a room behind the counter before she nearly impaled herself on the wooden desk; her hands saved her as they reached out to stop her from the accident. She had dark blue hair which flowed all over her face from the inertia.

“Careful,” chuckled the traveler. “It’s not a race.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” said the girl as she pushed her hair back into place behind her ears. “Right…welcome to the Cerulean Playhouse Inn, I’m your host, Dawn Berlitz! How may I help you today?”

“Cerulean…P-playhouse…Inn…? Eh?”

“Pi pika…”

“Cerulean Playhouse Inn,” repeated Dawn. “This was once the site of an old theater, some of the old framework was used to create this place a hundred years ago. As a gesture of hospitality, I love to entertain the guests daily with a Pokémon performance. You know, like a Pokémon Contest.”

“Ah, I see, sounds great,” the man said.

“Good to hear!” chirped Dawn with a sway of her head. “Anyways, what’s your need here?”

“I’d like a room, stay time indeterminate,” he said. “I’m Ash by the way, Ash Ketchum.”

“Ash Ketchum,” repeated Dawn as she scribbled his name down. “Um, why ‘indeterminate’?” Ash flinched.

“Just trust me. I’m a little in the dark on the matter myself.”

“I think I get it…” said Dawn with a nervous chuckle. They continued the paperwork and Dawn soon finished up. “Right,” she said, holding a hand out to the doorway on her left, “if you’ll just follow me sir, we’ll be at your room.”

Ash followed her, but just as Dawn began to go up the stairs, a man with blond hair suddenly stomped into view on the upstairs landing and looked down at Ash grimly. “Hey, what’s the big idea?!” he shouted. Dawn pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

“Barry, he’s a customer, he’s not here to steal your glory as a Pokémon trainer or…”

“Oh yeah!? Well, if he is after my glory then I’m tripling his fine!”

Ash blinked. “Triple my fine? I’m broke enough as it is…”

“Oh no, Mr. Black Hair show off! You’re not stealing any of my glory. Me and Empoleon shall crush you, and—”

“Barry!” shouted Dawn. “As if anything like that has to do with anything!”

“Oh yes it does!” replied Barry with an accusatory finger. He slammed the railing with both of his hands, fumes practically roaring from his nostrils. “You listen here, tough guy! This establishment has tons of trainers staying here overnight every day! They’re in, they’re out. Take the hint! We don’t have the room to house some dude who says he doesn’t know how long he’ll be here! Honestly…!” And he stormed off.

Dawn gritted her teeth. “Ignore him,” she said as looked back at him. Ash could only grimace at her unsubtle twitching eyebrow. He could only imagine that what that ‘Barry’ had said wasn’t close to the tip of Dawn’s iceberg.

“R-right…”

Dawn said no more on the matter and lead – with noticeable irritation – Ash into his assigned room. She was about to leave when…

“Excuse, Dawn?” began Ash. “But may I ask a question of you?”

“Sure thing – what do you need to know?”

“Well, to start. How long have you been here?”

“For over half of my life,” replied Dawn. “My Mother and I moved here from the Sinnoh region to have a fresher start.”

“I see. Then tell me – what do you know of the Cerulean Sirens?”

Dawn’s originally polite countenance fell to an uncertain one. “The Sirens…?” she muttered. “Not sure in all honesty. But every time a major fog comes rolling in we hear these strange sounds coming from the ocean. There have been rumors, you see, about how the Sirens use the fog to sneak about and intermingle with us humans once we’ve gone and lost ourselves in the soup.”

“Yeah, it would seem right for them given their descriptions,” said Ash. “But, tell me, do you believe they exist?”

The bluenette tapped her chin in thought. “I guess. Though I’d much rather meet one than go on believing simple fishermen’s tales.”

Ash nodded. “Just curious,” he added, by way of deflecting any questions about why he had asked. “Good night.”

“Good night,” said Dawn with a bow. She turned back and closed his door. Once Ash was sure she was out of earshot, he walked to the window and opened it. For the second time that evening, a strange melody filled the air – soft yet powerful, calming yet unnerving.

OoOoO

It won’t lift for anytime soon it seems, thought Tracey as he stared in boredom out of the observation window the tune the only thing keeping him amused – he then blew the foghorn once again before stepping out to the balcony. When he did he heard strange splashing sounds from below. He scanned the area but saw nothing. Must be a Pokémon…

It was only the fog that covered the mysterious singer…

Beneath the fog and cold waves a few figures swam up to the surface and looked around. Soon enough they heard the same low song that Ash and Tracey were listening to, they nodded to each other before diving back under the water.

Deep in the water some few miles away from Cerulean they approached a strange civilization made of stone bricks. The two figures swam towards the largest building, protected by two other figures holding tridents, one of whom gave the scouts a stern look before nodding. Inside, the scouts approached a brown-haired figure whose tail flicked back and forth, arms crossed in front of his chest in impatience.

“We overheard the enemy singing out again,” said one, “and as usual, it was directed toward the ape primitives.”

The brown hair figure’s frown deepened. “Ever the persistent ones, those harpies,” he sneered. “I swear, when we’re done we won’t ever have to hear our vocals ever directed at those despicable apes ever again!”

OoOoO

“ ‘Well why shouldn’t we?!’ is what we’re obviously yelling to them,” huffed a pink-haired figure. She was talking to another one with blue hair, who was sitting next to one with orange hair. “They deserve it, the bratty troublemakers.”

“It’s all changed since our old ruler passed away,” the orange head said with a sigh. “Speaking on the topic of ‘why shouldn’t we’ – where’s Daisy?”

“You called?” said the woman in question. A beautiful blond woman swam elegantly in, her appearance above all else being even more beautiful than her three sisters’. But to call them just humans would be inaccurate – they were Sirens, or to put more simply with terms associated with fantasy, mermaids.

“Yes actually,” put in Lily, the pink-haired one. “We were actually wondering where in you’d gone.”

Daisy swam up the table they were sitting around and grabbed a piece of coral and took a bite out of it. “Just out singing,” she said nonchalantly.

“Singing where?” asked Violet, the blue-haired one.

“Y’know, out on the ocean,” replied Daisy as she avoided eye contact. She began chewing more on her food, this time far more aggressively.

“You were out singing for that lighthouse guy, weren’t you?” said Lily finally. Daisy choked on a piece of the coral fruit. “Knew it!” she sang victoriously, pumping a fist into the water.

“That’s dangerous, you know,” said Misty, the orange-haired, and youngest of the four sisters. “You’re lucky the fogs about. Why do you risk yourself so much just to sing for a guy?”

Daisy recovered from her cough. “You wouldn’t understand, Misty,” she said.

“I think I understand that we’re in enough hot water as it is with the rest of our kind!”

“But,” said Violet pointedly, “you did join us willingly in our stand against Rudy when he became ruler.”

“Y-yes, I did,” said Misty. She looked to Daisy. “I’m just worried about your safety. Not because of the humans but just in case any of Rudy’s thugs goes and finds you.”

“Ha ha! Misty, you worry too much,” said Daisy. “Those silly Sirens wouldn’t go near the human’s settlement unless they were ordered to, and we’re settled too close to them to make threatening us an impossible reality.”

“The pure amount of phobia they have is as sensible as staring into the sun,” Misty muttered. She then yawned. “Well, I’m tired, so I’ll be going to sleep. Come along, Goldeen. Night all.” Her Pokémon partner opened her eyes and quickly swam after her short-haired mistress. Daisy watched her disappear into the cave.

“I think,” she said to no one in particularly, “that that girl could do with something new in her life.”

OoOoO

“It’s quite easy, Dawn,” grumbled Barry as they walked through the hallways. “Just go up to him, say ‘Thank you for your partro-patro…PATRONAGE, at Cerulean Playhouse Inn, but we only do one-night stays, so please have yourself a good stay in this city, and get out!’ It’s easy!”

“Oh cool off,” sneered Dawn. “What’s the harm in him staying for more than one night?”

“It’s the principle,” said Barry pompously. “We serve travelers, not tourists.”

“Ash is hardly a tourist,” said Dawn evenly.

“Oh, taking his side now are we?”

“Not even close. I just don’t think that there is any harm in letting him stay. Besides, it’s hardly written down that we only serve for one night here.”

Barry didn’t immediately reply, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned towards another corridor. He huffed heavily. “You’re the one defending him.”

“Only because he’s a nice man, unlike you! Your antagonism to him last night was hardly warranted.”

“Oh just do what you want,” sighed Barry, walking away.

“Honestly,” said Dawn aside before looking in Barry’s direction. “I swear, I could make a living out of dealing with stubborn men like you!”

Just up above, Ash had finished getting ready for his day, in his hand was a strange book, the condition of its binding suggested it was of elderly age. With the book safely in his arms, and Pikachu on the opposite shoulder, he arrived at the top of the second floor landing in time to hear the last part of Dawn and Barry’s spat.

“Ugh!” shouted Dawn in frustration. “Stubborn brat, he should be thankful I even give him as many chances to keep working here as I do!”

“Hah!” said Ash suddenly. Dawn blinked in surprise and whirled round to see Ash beginning to go down the stairs. “Tell us how you really feel.”

Dawn sighed. “He’s only in it for the money, and his work effort is subpar, but he’s a decent hustle in the case of ruffians showing up.” She paused and noticed the strange book. “Oh, what’s that about?”

“This? Ah, just some research I plan on looking into.”

“Is it to do with Sirens?”

“Um – er – well…” Ash slowly crept up to Dawn and leaned in. “Well, yes, it does actually.”

“Wow! Really?! Or are you just pulling an elaborate prank because you think of me as someone who’d believe anything?!”

“What? No, no, no, not at all!” cried Ash in alarm as he stepped back.

Dawn quickly calmed down. Ash could only marvel at the wonder of a woman’s mood swings. “All right then – prove you’re actually on to something.”

Ash sighed and beckoned her closer. He then held out a hand and it began to glow in a blue color in a shape that Dawn could only describe as a ball, then, he made it disappear. Before she could speak, he spoke up. “I’m an Aura user,” he said in a hushed tone. “The society I belong to recently has felt some strange spikes and stagnations coming from this area. However, we really don’t know what’s causing them since those signals are coming from way out on the ocean. What we suspect is that the rumors going around about the actual existence of the Sirens might just be true.”

“So…they might actually exist?”

“Might is an accurate word for this situation,” he replied. “The legends spoke of them being able to harness a great power and channel it through various methods with their advanced technology that’s incomparable to our very own. But…” he added with uncertainty, “again, we just don’t have any confirmation.”

Dawn mulled the situation over, all of the info she got was quite shocking to her and she was struggling to comprehend it all, but he said it all with such conviction that she fully believed it. “So, what you’re saying is, is that there appears to be trouble, but it’s only a theory?”

“Yeah, it’s only an idea. I have no idea until I finally know what’s happening.”

“Wait though!” said Dawn as realization came to her. “If we’re in danger, shouldn’t the citizens know about it…?”

“Shh! Shh!” said Ash sharply. He brought a finger to Dawn’s lips. “As I said, it’s just an idea. No one else can know why I’m here, at least not until I know exactly what’s going on here. Dawn,” he added quietly. “Can I trust you to not say a word about this anyone else? Extra people knowing what’s happening might cause more trouble than necessary.” Dawn’s eyes widened, Ash didn’t seem to be playing light anymore, his look was extremely serious – whatever it was that he was looking into, it wasn’t a dead end. She nodded affirmatively. “Good.” Ash smiled, and then quickly took his leave into the misty city.

OoOoO

“…Wake up! Wake up!” came a prattling voice on the other end of her seaweed curtain. Misty groaned and got up from the shell that was her bed.

“What do you need, Daisy?” she asked sleepily.

“It’s already eight o’clock actually!” said Daisy cheerily. “So, like, it’s you who should’ve been up a while ago missy. Anyways…!” Daisy then invited herself into her sister’s room. “I was, like, thinking that you could do with a routine change, so come with me!”

“Go with you where…?”

“Oh, just around the reef. It’s been too long since we’ve spent time together – you really got to wonder where time flies.”

“That time took flight as a result of you disappearing of somewhere quite regularly recently…” said Misty sarcastically.

“Oh lighten up,” sang Daisy, and swam off with Misty reluctantly following.

Along the waves, Daisy saw a male Siren swimming a few yards away from where she and Misty were travelling. The male frowned when he saw the two approaching. “And just where are you two ladies off to at this hour?” he asked cautiously.

“Morning to you too, Sean,” replied Daisy crisply.

“You’ve got some nerve being snippy,” grumbled Sean. “You’re the ones who went and defected – your pitiful resistance group lives pathetically. Honestly, your opinions are all insane.”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinions at all,” answered Daisy. “I’ll ask when I want an idiot’s position.” And she quickly swam off.

“Nicely handled,” praised Misty when they were out of earshot.

“You get used to it when you’re on the defending side,” said Daisy with a smile. “Anyways, this is your surprise.” She pointed towards the surface of the ocean, though the light looked more fractured than usual.

“Huh, a storm might be passing by,” observed Misty.

“Yeah, I felt it in the waves,” added Daisy. “But all the same, you’ll really like what I’m about to show you.” Before Misty could voice an opinion, Daisy grabbed her by the wrist and pull her up to the surface, the area they were was covered with rocks, one of which the blond rested herself against.

“Ugh! The surface?” coughed Misty. “What is it from here that you’d want me to see?”

“Take a look.” The orange head opened her eyes and gazed upwards to what Daisy had been pointing to and gasped. It was the lighthouse, standing tall and somewhat menacingly over the washed clifftops and swirling fog.

“The lighthouse?!” she spluttered. “Wait a minute, what are you showing me a human structure for?”

“One – I think it’s beautiful, two – you’ve never seen it yourself before, and three – take a look up there…” said Daisy, whose tone went surprisingly soft on her third statement.

“What am I looking for?”

Her older sister pointed a finger at the male figure with black hair atop the balcony. “Him,” she said dreamily. “Oh…what a looker that one is. His name is Tracey. I’ve been observing his movements for a while recently.”

“So this is where you’ve been off to all this time?”

“Yeah, it’s quite out of the way from Rudy and his goons, and no one else really passes through here except for Pokémon, so I can observe him in peace.” Misty blinked, clearly not understanding. “I think he’s sweet,” went on Daisy. “You know what he does aside from keeping that light going? He watches the Pokémon, closely at that, he even draws them in that weird book of his…”

“Draws?”

“Yes. He talks often to that Marill of his, they seem awfully close. He calls himself a Pokémon Watcher, which I think has to do with that drawing habit of his. Whatever drawing means, it seems similar to our photos back home. So I think it’s just an archaic version of that – even if it does seem like a lot of work for something we could do in seconds. So primitive! Although…I wish I could get the chance to see his work up close, just to know what it’s like.”

Misty gulped. “You wouldn’t risk approaching him, would you?”

“What, are you suddenly as afraid of the humans as the rest of those ‘Magikarp’ we call our kind as well?”

“N-no…” said Misty quietly as she sunk under the water, her sister following. “I’m just scared for your sakes.”

Daisy smiled gently at her little sister. “Don’t worry, Misty, I’ve been careful, and if my observations are anything to go by, he’s curious about us as well. Well,” she added with a mischievous snicker, “mostly in me, that is. I am the one who has been singing for him recently. Ooh! I know, I could sing right now actually.” Daisy immediately popped her head out the water. Misty didn’t know why, but in reflex she dove further down into the water.

She watched as Daisy began to sing. They were both so preoccupied that failed to notice that Misty’s Goldeen was beginning to panic. The nearby weeds were swaying furiously, and the Pokémon began to scatter – the girls were oblivious to it.

OoOoO

Ash made his way through the fog, all the areas closest to the water in town was packed with people either at market or fishing. He wanted to begin his search by investigating places where he had heard the strange song being sung the night before. The book told him that often with Sirens the first sign of them being about would be fog. Deducing from that, he decided to head back to the lighthouse where the fog had first begun to appear and where the voice originated.

He stepped cautiously through before stepping up to the door and rapped loudly. “Ahoy! Ahoy, Keeper! Anybody home?!” he yelled.

Tracey was just putting some finishing touches on a drawing of his when Ash’s loud knocks disturbed him, luckily, he didn’t ruin his own work. “Who the devil could that be?” he said in surprise.

“Marill, mar?”

Tracey didn’t give in a second thought and hurried downstairs where he found Ash. Tracey couldn’t help but of him as a strange man.

“Ah, hello Keeper,” said Ash as he let himself into the building. “Hope you don’t mind; could do with getting out of the winds.”

“Mm, those winds are bit fierce,” said Tracey. “But anyways, who are you and what do you want? Almost no one from Cerulean visits the lighthouse, except Mrs. Meyers to deliver me bread.”

“Well, I’m not from around here, I’m a traveler,” said Ash as he aired out his coat. “I’m Ash, Ash Ketchum.”

“Sketchit, Tracey Sketchit.”

“A pleasure, Tracey, and sorry for the intrusion but I’ve come to ask something of you.”

Tracey raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Heard any…strange songs lately?”

“Oh, well yes I have,” said Tracey, shocked yet pleased at having someone aside from his Pokémon to talk to about the strange occurrences. “It happens almost every day actually. Just…comes randomly, fog or not. Whoever she is, she has a fantastic voice.”

“I can imagine,” said Ash grinning. “I overheard the tune when I passed by last night. Tell me, do you think it’s a Siren?”

Tracey was astonished! “Y-you believe they exist?”

“Well, do you?” asked Ash. “You’re the one hearing these miraculous songs.”

“I know, and I do believe in them,” answered Tracey confidently. “Well, see I want to. Thing is though, I’ve never seen one.”

“Mmm,” muttered Ash in agreement. Just then the two men both heard a familiar, and spine-chillingly, but calming, female voice – it was the mysterious singer.

“Speak of the Devil…” said Tracey.

“Yeah,” replied Ash. “Think it’s a Siren?”

Tracey seemed unsure, he shook his head to get the doubt out before a more confident looked came to him. “What else is there to explain why those songs keep coming from the ocean?” he said

His visitor only shrugged, before a sight from the window caught his eye. “Well, who knows? Perhaps it’s just our minds playing tricks on us. But oh man, look at that.”

Coming in from the sea were huge rolling waves. “Uh oh,” said Tracey, though he sounded calmer than he should have. “Better keep an eye out – there could be fishermen out on the bay, I only hope they aren’t getting caught in that, or our singer!” Before Ash could speak, Tracey dashed back upstairs. Ash grimaced as he heard the waves.

“Come on,” he said to Pikachu, and dashed out the door. A freak wind passed through, blowing up sea water and tiny pebbles, the waves crashing fiercely against the rocks. Ash heard a high-pitched scream suddenly and followed it. “Don’t worry! I’m coming!”

OoOoO

Misty was panicked as the icy water swirled around her – she couldn’t navigate through all the confusion. Suddenly, she hit a rock face; she thought for a moment that it was a cliff and that she was safe. She held Goldeen and breathed a sigh of relief, then suddenly a large wave came and Misty shrieked as the force hit her and pushed her up the slick rock, she dragged over the jagged structure, her nerves firing off as the feeling of pain coursed through her. She landed tail first into the hard rock surface on the other side. “Ow!” she wailed loudly.

She took in her surroundings as soon as the chaos stopped – there was only enough water to submerge her bottom half, leaving her torso exposed to the earth. “Oh no,” she gasped. She had been forced into a tiny cove, the rock she fell in from being too big to climb. Her tail was bruised and she saw it was beginning to swell – she winced at the sight. She was worried – she was stranded!

Her heart rate began to go up. She was trapped, alone, in plain sight and with Daisy nowhere in sight. “Oh Goldeen,” she whispered in fright. “What if a human finds me…?” She had heard rumors that humans destroyed what they knew nothing about.

Ash jogged as quickly and as safely as he could over the dangerous terrain, whoever was in trouble needed to get out of the storm and fast. Wind and rain buffeted him. He hurried around the stones before halting with a loud screech of his heels.

Splashing before him in a pool of water was a figure that looked like a girl in a swimsuit, her hair orange went only as far as her shoulders. But most shocking for him of all was…

“A…tail?” he said aloud. It was large, green, made of scales, and pretty.

Misty squirmed round and stared in fright, any cry for help was lost in her throat like a cornered Pokémon.

Ash found his voice. “You…” he began. “You’re a Siren, right?”

#Pokemon #zedpercyfan #Pokeshipping #pokeani #SatoKasu #the sirens of cerulean

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frickyeahfanfic · 5 years

Text

REALITY CHECK // PART 2

p r e v i o u s n e x t

pairing: Quentin Beck/Mysterio X Reader

word count: 1.3K

warnings: none

summary: back to the present. you now work with S.H.I.E.L.D and you are summoned by annoying!Fury to go to Europe. turmoil awaits...

_____

SEVEN YEARS LATER

Busy.

That’s the only way to describe your life right now.

Busy busy busy.

As a traveling agent for S.H.I.E.L.D and an engineer for special tech made for S.H.I.E.L.D, having another assignment was nearly impossible on a day to day basis. Currently, you were in Ecuador, trying to fix the computer systems that went down after some underhanded hackers nearly dismantled the whole network.

That’s why you were extremely unhappy when Nick Fury called you, reporting you to Europe immediately.

“I’ve already scheduled the flight, Agent Y/l/n,” Fury barked into the phone.

“I’m in the middle of fixing this! Can’t it just wait until I��m done?” You shout back.

“Y/l/n, we need you here right now. You are the best agent for this job!”

You sigh loudly. “Fine. I’ll get on the flight. But only if I can come back here when it’s over,” you threaten back.

Fury chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

click.

You crashed down on your bed. After all, with all the time changes it was 2 in the morning when Fury called and you were exhausted. As you stare at the ceiling in the shabby hotel room you were staying at, it dawned on you. Why come back to Ecuador? Why not just send a different agent? And maybe even Fury would station you in Berlin after the “mess” was over, whatever that meant. Berlin was the dream, the perfect place for setting out your programming and technology building dreams.

You fell asleep easily that night, and woke up in the morning and hopped on the flight without hesitation.

What was the worst that could happen in Europe?

….

“Agent Y/l/n, thank you for being so willing to join us,” Nick Fury greeted you as you entered the abandoned tunnel beneath Italy.

You ignore his sarcasm and look around the musty space. “Is this really our secret base here?”

“You have a problem with that, Agent?” Fury warned. You only quirked an eyebrow in response.

Fury sighed and shook his head. “Let’s have you meet the team. Agent Maria Hill and Peter Parker are here, along with some other friendly faces,” he gestured around the dark area where the agent’s faces were lit up by the screens and random spotlights around. Peter Parker was small, smaller than you expected and surrounded by the SHIELD agents, he seemed to shrink into the room.

He was scared. And probably upset from what Fury told you about how he was on vacation and he pulled him away from his friends.

“Hi Peter,” you said softly, a stark contrast from Fury’s harsh voice.

“Hi Agent Y/l/n,” Peter said, meeting your eyes. They were just as tired as his.

You walked up to him and spoke in a hushed voice. “Hey, I know this is hard, and you’re probably pissed off at Fury-“

“Yeah, I am,” he interrupted.

You glanced back to Fury as he talked away with Agent Hill. “But Fury made me leave a super important mission for this. I’m one of his best agents, and if he’s recruited you, then I’m sure you’re pretty amazing too.”

Peter tried to smile. “Thanks,” he said weakly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you back on your trip in no time.”

Maria spoke to you this time.

“Agent Y/l/n, do you think you can run over these statistical scans? We’ve retrieved data on the power surges, and we just want to make sure they’re right-”

“Of course,” you say, taking a seat to the computer Agent Hill was gesturing to.

At first, the data was alarming. Enough power to explode the city had surged through the water, based on the scans. But it didn’t. There weren’t any other power surges, other than the other locations that had experienced the same trauma.

Strange.

Normally when catastrophes happen like this, the power originates elsewhere, not straight from the ground itself. And although Fury did say that these, what did he call them, Elementals? did originate from outer space, where were they drawing this power? It just didn’t make sense to you. If the Elementals did have their own power source, why were the scans not picking it up before?

“Mysterio will be here any moment.”

Your eyes snapped up from the computer to Fury hovering over you. “What?”

“No. Who,” Fury said, checking a datapad he was carrying.

“Who’s Mysterio?” The name sounded familiar but…

Just then, a man clad in Roman-like armor entered the tunnel. His chest glowed from lights in his suit and a cape billowed behind him.

He looked ominous.

As he entered into the light, you could see his face clearly.

And time seemed to stop.

“Beck,” you breathed.

In your mind, memories flooded back. It was like how they say in the movies how your life flashes before your eyes before you die. But you weren’t dying, and it was only your memories with Quentin Beck that resurfaced.

Happy memories. The two of you programming away, spending hours watching simulations, passed out over your desks, working on Quentin’s most prized possession besides you. Simple memories.

Then the sad memories came back. The miserable ones.

The ones when S.H.I.E.L.D wanted to recruit you. When you got in a fight with him about leaving him to get a better job. The way he got aggressive and you just couldn’t stand that.

Your relationship came tumbling down with a crash and you both simply walked away, leaving a mess to clean up.

But you never cleaned it up. The remains were left there, broken and shattered. And he never reached out after, not a call, not a text. And even after the Blip, nothing.

You watched from behind the computer screen, ignorant to the words Quentin, Fury and Peter spoke. You could only hear your heartbeat and the blood rushing loudly in your ears.

“I need some air.”

Suddenly all eyes in the room were fixated on you. It made your heart pound even more.

“I’ll be outside,” you say as you turn and make eye contact with Quentin. You could see, even in the dim light, his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed.

He recognized you.

You left the tunnel the way you entered. When you stood outside in the cool breeze, you nearly threw up by a lamppost.

Was it really him?

You decided to wait a moment, to see if he came out and followed you. After all, their conversation inside seemed to come to an end after you interjected.

Sure enough, footsteps echoed behind you, heavy ones partnered with the clinking of armor.

“Seven years,” you hissed, trying to hide the emotion in your voice.

You turn and face him, neck craned up to meet his sad eyes. His face looked a bit more weathered, more scruffy, but the same Quentin you knew ages ago was staring back at you.

“No, only two. You weren’t blipped,” he said, taking a step closer.

Your blood was boiling. “How do you know?”

Quentin remained silent. He shifted his feet uncomfortably and looked to the distance.

“You never cared about me after I left. I didn’t get a call, a text, anything.”

He tried to reach out to you but you stepped back, like avoiding the touch of a diseased animal.

“Y/n, I only cared about you. I just didn’t realize how much I needed you until you left.”

You shook your head, now avoiding his gaze. “And yet you barely put up a fight. You only cared about your stupid B.A.R.F programs.” Water pooled in your eyes, making it difficult to see.

“Y/n.”

E/c eyes darted up to look at his blue ones. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears.

“No, Beck.” You shake your head at him, furrowing your brows.

And with that, you turn around and walk back into the tunnel. Quentin didn’t follow you this time.

________

taglist: @galactic-magick @lokismortallove @skullchik89

(part 3 coming soon!!!)

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a-panda-reads-act-omega · 7 years

Text

ACT OMEGA PART 8

THE 24/10/16 UPDATE

Woow, another liveblog from your favorite act omega liveblogger. Are there any other livebloggers out there i need to know. So yeah, here we are with part 8! Big Vriska number for the win. Also only two updates away from double digits! Yeah, I’m not sure I thought this through with the whole update-update format, this might take a L OT of posts to get caught up. Luckily, I have no problem with making a fuckton of posts. Anyways, I think we left off with the kids, so lets hurry up and get back to them!

(Cant post the image. Here’s the link. http://mspfanventures.com/?s=16414&p=47)

GASP, IS thIS SOME MULTIPLE CHOICE SHIT? Well considering I’m forever going to be staying chronological, I suppose I should start with the one on the next page!

A CHARACTER SELECTION MENU appears through the power of NON-LINEAR STORYTELLING. You know the drill by now, have some free will! Or just go in this order, if you think agency is overrated

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

Oh, that’s helpful. Great, I’ll start with ONE then.

The fact that you are a dedicated and loyal reader is obvious and indisputable, so of course you won’t be moving on ahead without having taken a gander at all of the options presented to you.

Obviously! what kinda brainless CHUMP would move on without you explicitly stating to? NOT ME.

Anyways, starting with ONE.

PFt, woah their eyes.

KANAYA: (Hey) ROXY: oh heeeeey! KANAYA: (Hey To You Again Except Slightly More Quietly) ROXY: (oh sorry)

It seems they gotta be quiet for reasons. H m m M..

ROXY: (why r we whispering) KANAYA: (I Am Not Entirely Sure)

So they just need to be miss zuipPer lips for no reason then?

KANAYA: (That Just Seems To Be What Everyone Has Lapsed Into Doing) KANAYA: (And Now Speaking In A Normal Volume Will Draw More Attention Than Desired Especially When Attempting To Have A Private Conversation) ROXY: (im lovin this private convo already but you might need to make it snappy)

so everybodys just whispering? do they all got SECRETS? Also, what’s the hurry Roxy?

ROXY: (john looks about ready to get down n dirty with some srs leadership biz)

Oh yeah.

KANAYA: (Alright Then I Will Attempt To Be Brief) KANAYA: (I Wanted To Thank You Again) KANAYA: (For The Matriorb Certainly)

Alright cool! It seems that this Kanaya does remember Roxy giving her the good ol’ matriorb.

KANAYA: (But Additionally For Everything Else You Have Accomplished Today) KANAYA: (I Know Being The One To Strike The Final Blow Against Our Shared Enemy In The Midst Of Battle Does Not Necessarily Warrant Gratitude But I Thought It Might Be Nice For You To Hear That What You Did Was Appreciated)

What she DID, was prove herself to be a goddamn BADASS. But honestly everybody here’s a badass one way or another.

KANAYA: (At Least By Me) KANAYA: (On Behalf Of My Species As Well As All Those Who Suffered At The Behest Of The Condesce) KANAYA: (And All Those That May Now Be Born And Live Free Of Tyranny) KANAYA: (You Did Good)

Pft, nice. “Ya did good, kid.”

ROXY: (omg i am cri)

goddammit these lines always manage to be fucking perfect.

ROXY: (that wasnt brief @ all but twas so so bootiful) ROXY: (gdi cmere moms big loveable space gf)

OK this doesn’t need to be stated, but I fucking love roxy.

KANAYA: (Um I Would Prefer It If We Saved The Hug For Later Maybe) ROXY: (aww ok thats cool)

nO FUCKING HUG NOW

KANAYA: (Anyway I Have Only Just Met You But You Have Already Proven Yourself To Be Just As Extraordinary An Individual As Your...) KANAYA: (Uh) KANAYA: (Rose)

Nice Kanaya.

ROXY: (as my rose?) KANAYA: (Yes Your Rose) ROXY: (;D)

ITS CONFIRMED, Rose is Roxy’s Rose. this conversation is so cute.

See you’re still over there TZ. Whatcha lookin at? The uh... oh youre blind. what are you doing terezi?? come on girl, celebrate!

ROXY: (okay looks like john got distracted by somethin) ROXY: (so since we got a little more time to chat it up) ROXY: (and so long as were exchangin bomb as FUCK felicitations) ROXY: (youre not so shabby yourself yknow) ROXY: (like damn i was absolutely right youre one deadly customer)

Yeah no fuckin kidding, this girl knows how to kick ass.

ROXY: (seeing u whip out that BEASTLY CHAINSAW) ROXY: (was a sight to behold)

PFt, that was nothing. You should have seen when she single handedly put three of the most dangerous characters on the meteor out of commision.

KANAYA: (I Really Did Not Do All That Much Surprisingly) KANAYA: (Or Perhaps Unsurprisingly) KANAYA: (I Am Not Sure If I Was Erring On The Side Of Caution After All) KANAYA: (Out Of Consideration For The Gift You Gave Me) KANAYA: (Or If Perhaps I Was Simply Unpracticed)

Well yeah, she didnt do as much in this battle as the others. But like she said, she had the matriorb to keep safe. PLUS, she wasnt godtier. So yeah Kanaya, you’re excused from doing your makeup during the final epic battle.

ROXY: (who cares??) ROXY: (we WON) ROXY: (gave that witch what was COMING TO HER) ROXY: (and thats the end of that no point gettin our knickers all in a twist over it no more)

Roxy’s got the right idea. There doesn’t gotta be any more “proving yourself.” You did the battle, and you came out on top! JUst be done with it.

KANAYA: (Yes I Suppose Youre Right) KANAYA: (Though I Do Wonder How Things Might Have Gone If I Had Attempted To Dust Off One Of The Old Fraymotifs)

Oh shit, Kanaya’s got fraymotifs? And also, you can use fraymotifs without being godtier?

oh. wait. terezi isnt godtier is she? Yeah, you totally can use fraymotifs without godtier.

ROXY: (no kidding!) ROXY: (yeah that woulda been pretty badass) ROXY: (we could have had a sick combo) ROXY: (void and...) ROXY: (uh) KANAYA: (Space) ROXY: (right yeah space)

Well too bad you’ll never have the opportunity to USE that sick deadly combo!

I am ONE HUNDRED percent sure that will be the case

i am SO SURE

nobody has to die anymore

completely sure.

KANAYA: (It May Have Indeed Been Sick But Upon Further Reflection Perhaps Not)

No kanaya, it would be SUPER fuckin badass dont even give me that shit.

ROXY: (wait rly) ROXY: (how come?) KANAYA: (I Dont Feel Like I Ever Got The Opportunity To Truly Get In Touch With My Aspect Like You) KANAYA: (It Has Never Seemed Pertinent That I Be Able To Cast Some Sort Of Spacey Enchantment) KANAYA: (In Fact I Have Yet To Stumble Across A Scenario I Could Not Handle Through More Traditional Methods) ROXY: (u mean a deadly body slam full a sharp metal teeth twice the length of your head) KANAYA: (Yes Precisely) KANAYA: (That Tends To Cover The Bases Pretty Well)

WELL, Chainsaws do seem to cover many different issues. Mainly the ones which involve somebody needing to be cut the fuck in half. But I dont know if being “In touch” with your aspect was ever really a thing. I mean, when did John become “in touch” with his aspect? He just sorta got the powers and did shit with them. i dont really know what that has to do with it- wait a goddamn second. People always associate the wind aspect with like independence and shit, right? And.. the last thing that happened before John went godtier, was a choice. Given to him by Vriska, who for the first time decided to step back and let him decide what to do on his own. Whether or not she would have owned up to what she said about letting him decide how to fall asleep, he still made the choice and went with it on is own. So maybe that’s got something to do with it.

Or maybe I’m just an idiot.

ROXY: (well you know what thats cool) ROXY: (u do u) ROXY: (besides) ROXY: (hopefully there wont be any more reason for you to wreck shit)

GOddammit stop saying shit like that

KANAYA: (That Would Be Ideal I Suppose) KANAYA: (However It Is Always Wise To Be Prepared) KANAYA: (Just In Case) ROXY: (ofc!) ROXY: (and hey) ROXY: (just cuz we won the game doesnt mean there wont be any more opportunities to like) ROXY: (explore yourself and your aspect) ROXY: (our cool powers are too friggin handy for them to just stop bein relevant once we walk thru a magic door)

SPeaking of which, can THEY HURRY UP AND WALK THROUGH THE MAGIC FUCKING DOOR YET IM GETTING ANXIOUS.

ROXY: (maybe someday youll get the chance to blitz ur chakras and get spacey w it) ROXY: (and itll be at your own pace instead of having to rush it for the sake of fixing some giant spacetastrophe) KANAYA: (That Does Sound Nice)

YES IT DOES NOW HURRY UP THROUGH THE DOOR SO THAT BECOMES A REALITY COME THE FUCK ON JOHN

KANAYA: (Considering Right Now I Am Very Unsure Of How To Even Begin Blitzing Those Particular Chakras) ROXY: (i bet u can ask john) ROXY: (hes rly good at givin advice for stuff like that)

YES HE IS BUT HE ISNT GOOD AT OPENING DOORS AAAAA

ROXY: (tho he probably doesnt even know it pffff) KANAYA: (You Are Also Very Good At Giving Advice) KANAYA: (That Was Not Necessarily A Request I Simply Thought I Should Point That Out) ROXY: (TOO BAD youre gettin some anyway ;P) ROXY: (rly tho ive hardly even begun to wrestle my voidy powers into submission) ROXY: (still got a loooooong way to go on that front) ROXY: (but thus far most of my blitzing has just been like) ROXY: (being around the thing) ROXY: (and letting myself embrace this like) ROXY: (natural synergy i got going w it) KANAYA: (When You Say) KANAYA: (The Thing) KANAYA: (Do You Mean Nothing) KANAYA: (Considering Your Aspect Presides Over Literal Nothingness)

Yes Kanaya, this is exactly what she means.

ROXY: (pffft) ROXY: (yes thats what i mean :p) KANAYA: (Okay I Was Just Attempting To Clarify) KANAYA: (How Does One Surround Themselves With The Concept Of Nonexistence) ROXY: (i dunno!) ROXY: (when u put it that way it does sound pretty mind bending) ROXY: (i guess ive just been lucky?) ROXY: (or maybe the nothing is naturally attracted to me and lucks got nothin to do w it)

WELL YEAh, what isnt naturally attracted to you? Guys i just really love roxy help

ROXY: (but yeah i got that voidy ring @ one point) ROXY: (and when john started getting to fixing the timeline he took me to a place that felt like) ROXY: (the nothingest nothing to ever unexist) KANAYA: (That Sounds Interesting) KANAYA: (What Was It Like)

Probably nothing.

THATS a cool panel right there.

ROXY: (well it was) ROXY: (white) ROXY: (but not pure white) ROXY: (just slightly off) ROXY: (and) ROXY: (it was super vast) ROXY: (but not like regular outer space where you can actually see stuff like stars stretch on and on til you cant see it anymore) ROXY: (which at least gives u a sense of distance) ROXY: (but instead it was almost claustrophobic) ROXY: (cuz there was nothing there) ROXY: (you and all the other somethings just completely enveloped by a shrink wrap o absence)

HUmm.. thats pretty interesting to say the least. Not really sure what to think of it though! Just pretty nifty.

KANAYA: (Hmmmm) ROXY: (never really tried putting this into words) ROXY: (i think the thing about it was that the void sort of) ROXY: (changed) ROXY: (depending on how i chose to perceive it) ROXY: (cause the whole point is that its kinda like) ROXY: (idk) ROXY: (maybe a little like binary) KANAYA: (Binary?)

too bad sollux is dead he’d get a kick outta this.

did anybody make this connection. computer hacker guy who likes two’s. Binary. man. i feel like everybody did.

ROXY: (yknow binary) ROXY: (computer language) ROXY: (0011101100101001)

TRANSLATOr HELP

“;)“

omfg she just winked in binary.

KANAYA: (Oh That) ROXY: (the way that works is basically) ROXY: (you have a bit) ROXY: (like a computery bit) ROXY: (and it can say either 0 or 1) ROXY: (and dependin on which it is the computer displays the info differently) ROXY: (but the void is like a completely blank bit) ROXY: (there isnt a 0 or a 1 written on the bit yet but thats all were programmed to understand yknow) ROXY: (like 0 is technically nothing but whats important is that theres something there for you to see) ROXY: (but what im gettin at is that really void is just blank space waiting to be written on) ROXY: (by somebody like yours truly) ROXY: (im the computer and youre the person reading the display)

Oh. That’s pretty cool and shit.

OH shes gettin all magicky here

ROXY: (and my whole voidy thing) ROXY: (is that i gotta figure out the code for whatever i wanna make exist) ROXY: (and write it on the blank bits) ROXY: (then) ROXY: (i snatch em outta the void!)

Oh AGAIN. YEAh, roxys power seems a lot cooler now.

ROXY: (yoink!!!)

*gasp*

nice lipstick yo

Kanaya is so fucking cute oml. She looks kinda dumbfounded by this lipstick.

KANAYA: (Wow) KANAYA: (That Was Really Quite Insightful Roxy) KANAYA: (I Think I Am Already Beginning To Understand Things Better) KANAYA: (But What Is This) ROXY: (p sure its lipstick!) ROXY: (and its 4 u) ROXY: (i dont rly know if pinks ur color but) ROXY: (here it is anyway!)

Oh god help me im already starting to ship it.

KANAYA: (Another Gift) KANAYA: (Why) ROXY: (daaaaw i dunno) ROXY: (i mean its actually kinda cool i was able to make this at all) ROXY: (i bet it must be bc of you somehow) ROXY: (you like lipstick right?) KANAYA: (Yes) ROXY: (i dont know if this is just me but i bet this is totes a thing w space players) ROXY: (like i get the vibe that u guys r more in touch with the objects around you) ROXY: (specially the ones thatre important to you) KANAYA: (I Suppose...)

HMm.. Interesting bit of aspect analysis. That could possibly be a thing.

ROXY: (well?) ROXY: (ru gonna take it or what) KANAYA: (I Really Cant Accept This) KANAYA: (I Was Attempting To Alleviate The Debt Of Gratitude I Have Already Been Accumulating Towards You) KANAYA: (A Measly Thank You Is Hardly Enough) KANAYA: (And Yet You Present Me With Even More To Be Thankful For)

COme on Kanaya dont be like that. Just take the thing and be hAPPY! you dont gotta prove yourself for a gift.

ROXY: (man thats not how this works) ROXY: (you dont owe me nothin) ROXY: (but heck if it makes u feel better) ROXY: (the space egg wasnt rly 4 u it was 4 all the little trollings that need to be born) ROXY: (skewering the batterwitch was definitely 4 me and earth and stuff) ROXY: (and the lipstick is to thank u for takin such good care of my mom :D)

Dont you mean your Rose?

KANAYA: (... That Does Make Me Feel Slightly Better) ROXY: (so youll take it??) KANAYA: (Okay) ROXY: (hella) KANAYA: (Thank You) KANAYA: (Again) ROXY: (dont mention it!)

She will likely mention this many times.

WEll that was the end for their interaction I suppose, so it seems like we get one page of another interaction then? I guess Dirk and Jake.

Ohp, yep. Jeez they look awkward.

DIRK: (... So.) JAKE: (...) DIRK: (...) DIRK: (That was some fight, huh.)

Goddammit this is awkward.

JAKE: (Oh yes that sure was a doozy of a brawl we all just participated in.) JAKE: (Or rather multiple brawls.) DIRK: (I think you’re probably up to speed on exactly how well mine went.) JAKE: (Um.) JAKE: (Should i be?) DIRK: (Nevermind.)

Just another beheading of good ol’ Dirk. Seems like that’s a common thing for him.

((OhOFOHSANSIJFN HOLY SHIT I PRESSED A BUTTON AND FOR A SECOND I THOUGHT I ALMOST DELETED EVERYTHING I WROTE DAMMIT TUMBLR GIVE ME WARNINGS))

JAKE: (Sorry... its just difficult to, uh...) DIRK: (Don’t be sorry. It doesn’t actually matter.) JAKE: (The important part is you won right?) DIRK: (Yeah...) DIRK: (How did yours go?) DIRK: (If you feel like sharing, that is.) JAKE: (Oh i won too!) DIRK: (Well. Obviously.) DIRK: (I meant... like.) DIRK: (Specifically, HOW you won.) DIRK: (I’d be down to hear some details of all the kickassery you've been dishing out.) DIRK: (That must've been pretty crazy solo.)

Come ONNNN guys, quit dancing around the topic here. Somethings bothering you and its making everything shitty.

JAKE: (Oh.) JAKE: (Well i wasnt alone for long actually.) JAKE: (In fact it was quite the clusterfuck of skeletons sprites and green goblin brutes!) JAKE: (That crabby troll fellow even showed up at one point.) JAKE: (He seemed to be having a difficult time with one of the tinier rascals but i was up to my ears in fracas and fisticuffs myself and couldnt really lend him a hand.)

Dammit Karkat. I love him, but god he’s adorably pathetic in fights.

DIRK: (It looks like he’s alright, so no harm done.) DIRK: (How many of those green dudes were there again?) JAKE: (Im fairly certain there were 14.) DIRK: (And you trounced all of them?) JAKE: (Actually k...carat dealt with one of them i think.) JAKE: (They were small but a decidedly tricky foe. It was scurrying around so fast i dont think a single one of my bullets even grazed it!)

He has ALLLL the luck Jake, ALL of it! Honestly, can we get a Vriska/Clover battle?

DIRK: (Well, shit. Sounds tough.) DIRK: (Still, my score reads "Jake: 13, Goblins: 0".) DIRK: (Oh, and I’m pretty sure the name you’re looking for is Karkat.) JAKE: (Is that so?) DIRK: (Yup.) JAKE: (My mistake then...) DIRK: (Don’t worry about it.)

Dammit Jake, don’t be so fucking hard on yourself. I feel bad for him now. Like, he’s beating himself up over not knowing a complete strangers name.

JAKE: (Have you spoken to him at all yet?) DIRK: (Nah.) JAKE: (Would you like to?) DIRK: (I guess? Sure.) DIRK: (He and Dave seem to be in the middle of something, though. No point in interrupting.) DIRK: (Besides, I’m talking to you right now.) JAKE: (...) DIRK: (...)

(...)

Alright dammit, I guess we’ll see if they get over whatever’s bugging them in the next update, because that’s the last page. Seeya next time and whatnot folks.

#homestuck #homestuck liveblog #act omega #act omega liveblog #hs act omega #hs act omega liveblog

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swipestream · 5 years

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Trying out The Alexandrian’s Urbancrawl System: Designing the City of Juntial Part 2

So to recap from last time: I was excited about a system for creating urbancrawls outlined at The Alexandrian and was also inspired by the feeling of the Steve Jackson Sorcery! gamebooks and decided to give the urbancrawl system a shot to design a “strange magic” city.

Links:

Part 1 of this series

The Alexandrian’s Urbancrawl series

Steve Jackson’s Sorcery!

Books

Video Games

We left off last time with a list of districts, a definition of what a neighborhood was and a list of layers we were going to use. This time we’re tackling a rough map and a neighborhood list. Since there are plenty of neighborhoods, I’m tackling the four smaller ones this time and detailing on the districts for the two largest. I’ll cover the neighborhoods in those next time.

Here’s the (very rough) map. It’s just a set of neighborhoods surrounded by the city walls an bordered by the wall, the five major rivers, the major roadways, and the shores of the central lake. Note that none of those have names at this point. This is just one step up from a sketch, and then only because I figured using software would result in a slightly more readable result than hand drawing it. Districts are color coded, Neighborhoods are labeled with a key. We’re also not going to name them at this point either. That’s something we can handle later and something that takes up an awful lot of brainspace and time while being subject to change if the neighborhood map or list changes under it.

B – Bazaar District: Since the city is a trading hub, this is the main district. It encompases three of the five water entrances to the city, three land entrances, and much of the lakeshore. Though it comprises two non-contiguous pieces of land, it is considered a single district because the palace (P1) and temple (T2) neighborhoods that separate the two parts are also mainly economic, and the two parts can be easily bridged by the smaller roads that circle the lake shore and by ferry and skiff across the lake. The neighborhoods in this district contain many densely packed shops of all descriptions around their exterior. Inside are mostly middle class dwellings and a fair amount of local services, amenities, and green areas.

C – Crafters District: This single neighborhood district is home to the most noisome crafting shops in the city: tanners, papermakers, animal processors, alchemists, smelters, etc… The district is located on the wall to keep unpleasant smells and smoke to a minimum. They have rerouted a distributary of the river that borders their neighborhood and use it to fuel their industries, dumping wastewater into outflowing streamlets that in theory exit beyond the wall. This district is smoggy, and the air smells and even tastes strange. This neighborhood did suffer some damage from the incident in the ruined district. It has been mostly repaired though a few buildings are still missing. Landmark: the central aqueduct that feeds the neighborhood with fresh water, a marvel of engineering and stonework

P – Palace District: This district is where the city’s nobility and government services are located. The district is is one of the cleanest and best guarded districts. It is patrolled by the city watch, a well funded and trained militia that ostensibly protects the entire city, but focuses mostly on the palace and bazaar districts. The district is elevated above the rest of the city with a level of crushed stone that keeps the ground dry and solid. Buildings are well constructed. Neighborhoods are ringed by shops or services and the inner areas are filled with upper middle class dwellings, large noble estates, and copious gardens, water features and statuary.

P1 – Palace Trade Neighborhood: The government hold a monopoly on certain valuable commodities. The stores that ring this neighborhood deal in many of those goods and are spacious, well guarded, and heavily constructed. Business owners have official government scales and purchases often require official permits, identification, and forms signed in triplicate. In addition to these goods, this neighborhood also houses official government buildings where you can find government services, paperwork available to the public. The inner parts of the neighborhood generally holds housing for government workers, militia families and the occasional middle class citizen or minor noble house. Public spaces are well tended and fair in number, if not too flashy. Landmark: The transfixed column – a stained marble column with a spear embedded deeply in it. Said to be the last stand of a squad of soldiers during an attack in the early days of the city. One of their archers was pinned to the column by the spear and continued to fight.

P2 – Palace Government Neighborhood: This neighborhood houses the city’s government buildings, all of which are large and impressive. This includes several courthouses, headquarters and barracks for the city watch, the palace of the current lord of the city: the mummified remains of an earlier lord, and the council buildings: where the small inner circle of the highest nobles interpret the will of the lord of the city. Inside the neighborhood is homes for mid level noble families and the highest castes of government workers and civilians. Public spaces are many and impressive. Landmark: Palace of the mummy lord – a large opulent palace the houses the lard of the city and his many caretakers and servants who upkeep the grounds to the highest standards.

P3 – Palace Noble Neighborhood: The businesses that ring this neighborhood sell goods and services of the highest quality. These buildings are large and crafted and decorated richly. The residential area is a mix of fair sized apartments for individual nobles and walled estates for families. Public areas are plentiful and impressive, high quality statuary, water features and gardens. The city watch is ever-present and visitors without business are largely unwelcome. Landmark: The garden maze – a large impressive garden with enchanted plots that keep perfect conditions for an impressive collection of plants from all over the world. The gardens have many brick path mazes and in the center is a hedge maze rumored to hold even more impressive specimens.

R – Ruined District: This district used to be home to a magic university and related facilities, but is now largely ruined due to a massive accident of an unknown nature. Buildings had once been built of traditional stone and wood construction, but many are collapsed, burned down or dangerous. No one goes into the district if it is possible to avoid it.

R1 – Fallen Neighborhood: Though many of the buildings in this neighborhood are badly damaged, people still live and work here. At one point this neighborhood sold mostly necessities and paraphernalia needed for study at the now destroyed university. Now the few staff and students that survived pedal what useful goods and services in the broken buildings of the neighborhood. The residential portion is shabby and in poor condition as well, and public areas are damaged and often stripped of anything of value. One area which is not lacking is security. Especially at night, all buildings that are still standing are barred tightly. Landmark: The Study Hall – One of the more popular college haunts this inn and tavern managed to survive the accident fairly unscathed. It is now home to a large number of squatters and is heavily fortified with all doors and windows boarded up or blocked with furniture. It forms a good forward base, if shabby and lawless for forays into the ruins.

R2 – The Crater: This neighborhood is mostly collapsed and or burned. A fine ash settles over ruined and hollow buildings. The outer ring is mostly standing but badly damaged. The inside is mostly piles of ruined construction materials and burned out husks. Since a large portion of the neighborhood was interconnected university buildings this is now mostly one massive ruin full of hazards and remnants of school facilities. No one lives here and few venture inside. Whatever the accident was that destroyed the neighborhood has left strange and dangerous things in its wake. Landmark: The Crater – in the center of the maze of ruined university buildings lies a huge still smouldering crater. There may be clues to what happened still here.

S – Slums: This is actually two districts, the northern and southern slums. Like all other districts, the outer areas of slum neighborhoods also host shops, but the goods to be found here are usually inferior or of a questionable nature. Residential areas are overcrowded and dirty. Public areas are all but nonexistent. Buildings are mostly made of wood and are in poor condition. In many places, structures are crowded close together or touching.

T -Temple District: This District houses the city’s temples and other religious institutions. Like the Palace District, it sits on a raised bed of crushed stone that keeps the ground dry and solid. It is also clean and well guarded. The temple district is patrolled by its own guard force the temple guard a military and religious militia which enforces not only the law but also a minimal level of “proper” moral behavior as interpreted by the most popular and wealthy religions. Those who are disrespectful or blasphemous may find themselves on the wrong side of the law in this district. Buildings in this district are well constructed, usually of stone and often decorated with religious motifs. Residential areas mostly house priests, other temple employees and the occasional upper middle class civilian or minor noble. Public areas are often impressive displays of religious figures or places for quiet contemplation.

T1 – Temples of the Small Gods: This neighborhood houses many small temples from less popular religions. The actual stature of the god themselves within their religion is less important than how many worshipers they have. Many of these temples are small buildings. Others are simple open air shrines. Others are simply a bust and a small space for offerings. Since the neighborhood serves so many religions, it is one of the most diverse neighborhoods in the city. People from many different cultures can be found worshiping their respective gods here. The residential areas of this neighborhood feature many small crowded apartments. They house not only the local priests but also many of the minor religious personnel from other neighborhoods. Public areas are as diverse as the temples, worshipers and priests themselves. There are gardens for quiet contemplation, feast halls, dance circles and more. Landmark: Shrine to the Unknown God – tucked away in an alleyway is a simple untended stone bowl where those whose gods are not represented elsewhere in the city can come to make offerings.

T2 – Temple Trade Neighborhood: This neighborhood holds a number of shops for religious needs. Everything from vestments, to holy symbols, to sacrifices can be found here. Buildings are usually either dedicated to a single god of pantheon and bear their symbols or are festooned with symbols of dozens of religions. Though these structures are build solidly and highly decorated, only the ones dedicated to the most popular gods are of any large size. Residential areas are usually quiet and well guarded. Public areas are understated but plentiful. Landmark: The Pens – one of the easier sets of shops to hear and smell is the pens where temple merchants sell various blessed animals to be used in sacrifices.

T3 – Temples of the Large Gods: This neighborhood houses much larger temples dedicated to the most popular pantheons and gods. The buildings are ornate convered in sculpure and inlay appropriate to their religion and guarded day and night. The structures here rival even the Palace Noble Neighborhood. The residential areas house the priests, their assistants and a few noble families and are the equal of the quarters of minor nobles, although there are a wide range from simple dwellings to small palaces depending on the religion in question. Public areas are as varied as the religions they serve but are many and impressive. Landmark: The white-gold pyramid – the size of a small temple, a pyramid sits in a garden a short distance off one of the main roads. It looks like a temple and is richly adorned with polished marble and gold leaf, but it may be statuary, as there appears to be no way to enter it.

Where are the docks?: So last time I mentioned a Docks district that was actually neighborhoods around the water entrances in the city and the lake shore. I’m still deciding if this will be neighborhoods proper or just layers within appropriate neighborhoods. It has the potential to add a fair number of neighborhoods unless handled correctly.

Next time: I finish the other half of the neighborhoods, make a final decision on the docks. After that, we start populating layers.

Trying out The Alexandrian’s Urbancrawl System: Designing the City of Juntial Part 2 published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

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netunleashed-blog · 6 years

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The company states its logging policy very clearly on the website: there is no tracking or recording of your internet activity.With its unlimited data allowance, this is one free VPN that’s certainly worth considering. Although if you feel the need to upgrade, there are three paid plans, including a very pricey top-end product (Visionary) which boasts ProtonMail encrypted email with all features as part of the package.Overall, this isn’t a cheap provider, although the Plus plan isn’t too expensive on an annual subscription, and will give you full access to the service. The packages available are: Free Plan - Unlimited DataBasic [$5.00 a month] 1 month or [$4.00 a month] 12 months - $48.00 per yearPlus [$10.00 a month] 1 month or [$8.00 a month] 12 months - $96.00 per yearVisionary [$30.00 a month] 1 month or [$24.00 a month] 12 months - $288.00 per year This Singapore-based VPN proved to be consistent in our testing. The service delivered fast and reliable connections even over long distances with almost no difference compared to our regular download speeds. Ivacy's desktop clients are novice-friendly, but also offer more than enough settings to tweak for more advanced users. Unfortunately, the mobile apps are a different story, being overly basic and rarely updated.There are no logs kept here, and the service handles privacy and security quite well. Still, you may want to pay attention to the refund policy as there are some conditions attached to it. Namely, it doesn't apply if you've used Bitcoin or Paymentwall to pay for the service.Ivacy offers three subscriptions that could use a bit more variety, although they all have a 30-day money-back guarantee (except the monthly plan, which has a 7-day guarantee). The monthly plan aside, the subscriptions are quite affordable, especially the 2-year plan which is really cheap. The packages available are: [$8.95 a month] 1-month[$3.00 a month] 1-years - $36.00[$1.99 a month] 2-years - $48Download Ivacy here Hide.me has the smallest server selection of any VPN on this list, but makes up for it with great performance – in our tests, it actually increased download speeds by just a touch compared to our normal rates.The service provides clients for Windows, Mac, iOS, Android and Windows Phone, and there are setup instructions for other platforms. The Windows client is compact and quite simple to use, and with just one click you can connect to the fastest server currently available. There is a strict no logging policy in place, too.The service offers a 2GB per month free plan which is more than enough to properly test things out. If you want unlimited data, then you’ll need the Premium plan, but it’s rather expensive. Otherwise, the only other option is the Plus package which has certain restrictions (75GB data allowance, no port forwarding, a miserly one simultaneous connection, and other limitations). The packages available are: Free - costs nothingPlus - $4.99 a monthPremium - $9.99 a monthDownload Hide.me here How to choose the best Kodi VPN As ever when it comes to streaming content – particularly if it’s HD – you want one of the best VPNs which gives you fast download speeds to avoid those dreaded pauses while the ‘buffering’ icon hogs the screen. A large web of server locations also helps as you’ll have more options to find the fastest connection possible.And as always, you’ll want good levels of security and a ‘zero logs’ privacy policy. An intuitive dedicated client is highly desirable as there might be some initial tweaking and fiddling required. Those who prefer viewing on the go should look out for mobile device support, and preferably native clients for iOS/Android. 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irishmuseumofmodernart · 6 years

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When the Ceiling Meets the Floor, Acrylic paint, 900x450cm approx., The Lab, Dublin, 2015

‘…when an artist sits down to write about another artist, he (she) is also writing about himself (herself).’

– D. Salle, How to See, W. W. Norton & Company Ltd, 2016, p.8.

The area of investigation within my own work explores the ‘extendable paint surface’ and the provisionality this causes within traditional views of painting. Through extensive research followed by the setting of boundaries to work within (for example using only 3 colours, Magenta/Cyan/Lemon, and 3 Shapes, Square/Circle/Triangle) I find possibilities to make painting for now. Consequently, the visual outcomes found in my work are often biomorphic in appearance; playfully teasing some form of beauty out of a self- conscious awareness of the paint and its own material hybridity.

MYC- neon, Something about some thing to do with Paint, Acrylic paint, medium gel, canvas, wooden structure and steel supports, 200x185cm, The Mac, Belfast, 2014, Photo credit: Simon Mills

What has become increasingly important within the work I make is how to systematically challenge painting without sacrificing the medium of paint. Peeled and removed paint within my paintings thus acts to reveal the canvases innards while concealing it at the same time, inviting the viewer in to examine its fragments (history) and out: to experience its wholeness (now-ness), making it indeed mysterious and curious as an object of painting.

Y_M_C_C_Y_M_M_C_Y_YMCCYMMCY_YMC_CYM_MCY, Acrylic paint, medium gel, wood support, 450x200cm approx., Highlanes Gallery, Drogheda, Photo credit: Davey Moor

Hence it will come as no surprise that what struck me most about my first encounter with the Freud paintings at IMMA was not the normal frontality of his subject matter but rather the way he constructed his paint upon the surface of his supports.

Detail image from Two Irishmen in W11, Oil on canvas, 172.7×141.6cm, 1984-85, Private Collection

Lucian Freud is an artist who has been long celebrated for his painted flesh, but I am not talking about flesh; that meaty and weighty plasma. Rather when confronted with the work in IMMA what I found myself wondering about was the way his paint handling had now become a kind of skin. Skins, which are not of the human variety even though they are suggestive of it, but rather a skin, which has been created touch-by-touch [1], brushstroke by brushstroke, layer over upon layer and within the rectangular confinements of the canvas and beyond.

Freud’s paint surfaces, these skins, are made from and contain huge amounts of paint, paint often arduously yet somehow instinctually applied. The paint skins in each individual painting now hold all manner of evidence such as that of the artist’s hand, his touch, his intensity and importantly his struggle to make an image from this liquid and its fugitivity. Freud’s skins thus make visible not just a specific ‘medium’ (paint), but also content, ideas, and his very process.

Details image from Reflection (Self-Protrait), Oil on canvas, 56.2×51.2cm, 1985, Private Collection

Upon close-up inspection what becomes noticeable is just how much Freud’s paint skins hold all manner of nuance. They are full of contradictions, somehow appearing both delicate and frenzied within their construction, both abstract and figurative within their picturing. They are beautiful and they make visible so many aspects of Freud’s material inquiry, understanding and long pre-occupation with both colour and medium.

What Freud’s surfaces allow to unfold before the viewer’s eye could be compared to what art historian and theorist Isabelle Graw would refer to as traces of an (his) activity [2]. Freud does this through his very many and varied brushstrokes. Those exquisitely, and more often than not laboured signature marks both embedded within and making visible these very paint skins I find myself gazing upon.

Yet for all of Freud’s frontal seduction and the juiciness of his medium, these paintings are hard won. There are so many paradoxes at play with the evidence of Freud’s own painting battles made visible within the lumpy, scratchy, blobby, melting pigmentation…hands are too big, angles are all wrong, the likeness is clumsy, wonky, weird, compositions are often ever so slightly off and lacking in optical harmony. There is no glamour to his work, only a single-mindedness and he repeatedly makes you aware of this through the dingy and shabby surrounds deliberately left on view of his artist workplace…the studio.

Freud encourages his viewer to enter this world to look beyond his sitters, to peer into and around, to be nosy. His juxtaposition of colours upon each unvarnished canvas draws you inward and invites close up inspection with the image defining the terms of its own making [3] to see how the skin has ‘actually’ arisen. Repetition, and often a lack of sentimentality for his subject matter or site reveal an obsessive tactility. A tactility in the paint handling, in the paint construction, in the many and varied methods of mark making Freud, employed and made visible upon the surfaces of his work. With this tactility in itself also becoming a form of doubling.

Details from Photograph of Freud’s Studio

This becomes evident through the expanded nature of his painting beyond the surface of the canvas, beyond and into the world Freud actually inhabited. His daily painting pursuit and importantly his obsessiveness with paint becomes both visual and unmistakable upon the actual ‘Paint-Walls’ [4] he created through years upon years of the smearing of the excess of his paint mixing upon the walls of his studio.

Detail from Photograph of Freud’s Studio

‘Paint-Walls’ now inhabit both the imagined and the embodied world. Eventually, Freud would camouflage his whole existence and being in this second skin. And if you look closely at the paintings themselves in IMMA you can see traces and fragments of the paint-walls/skin growing, you can almost feel it taking over every available surface, breathing and multiplying, sitter after sitter, canvas after canvas. The painterly slowly becomes more about paint and painting, than the images of the flesh.

About the Author

Susan Connolly is an artist based in between Ireland and the UK, she is a graduate of Limerick School of Art and Design, she holds an MFA from the University of Ulster and a first class honours MA from ACW at NCAD, Dublin. Connolly is currently a PhD candidate at Ulster University (2014-2018) where her practice lead research is looking at the slippage and traces within contemporary abstract painting practices.

Connolly has exhibited her work extensively and has work in many private and public collections. She is a Lecturer at WIT and an Associate Lecturer at Ulster University. More information about her work can be found on http://www.susanconnolly.com

Footnotes

[1] R. Shiff, Paint-Wall, in C. Debray, (ed.), Lucian Freud: The Studio, Hirmer Verlag, 2010, p. 64-71.

[2] Isabelle Graw, The Value of Liveliness: Painting as an Index of Agency in the New Economy, Painting beyond Itself: The Medium in the Post-medium Condition, Sternberg Press, 2016, p.79.

[3] Ibid, p. 29.

[4] Ibid, p. 64-71.

Paint Skin? – a blog by Irish Artist Susan Connolly ‘…when an artist sits down to write about another artist, he (she) is also writing about himself (herself).'

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laseroy89 · 7 years

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Helping Dreams

A response to [WP] You've never been able to tell which world is the dream one. Every time you go to sleep in one, you wake up in the other as if you were just dreaming...

Did I really just dream it?

I was sitting down on my bed. Yeah, my bed, a soft mattress made out of memory foam, covered with a bedsheet that just came out of the washing machine just two days ago. With a plump pillow that supported my head, and a thick blanket that insulated me well during the cold nights.

Yet the last thing I remembered was lying down on a thin mattress without sheets, and placing my head on a pillow made out of folded clothes.

This has been going on for a quite a while now. More specifically, for three to four months now. I go to sleep in one world, and awake in the other one. As if the world I just exited had been a dream.

It has to be a dream, right?

But if this thing happens to both worlds, then which one is the dream world?

Just thinking about this makes my head hurt.

I mean, it doesn’t make sense. One of it has to be the dream world. It is simply not possible for me to be living two lives at once. It goes against all logic.

But there is one nagging detail about it that doesn’t seem right, one simple feeling that tears at the foundation of my so-called logical thinking.

I know who I am. I am George Kramer, from Berlin, Germany. I live in an apartment building on Kopenhagener Straße. My father’s German, but my mother’s English. My father works as a mechanic, and my mother works as an English teacher. I have many friends, but among my close friends, I have my neighbour, Klaus, and my two classmates, Scott and Rafael. That’s….about how much information I can reveal before getting too personal.

The thing is, I don’t remember much about my dream self. I thought I was the same person in my dreams, but in vastly different circumstances. For example, I know I live in a very shabby hut, and have a less than satisfactory bed that I didn't think I could fall asleep on. I have a new pair of sports shoes that I just bought one month ago, because my old pair has too many holes in it. I think it was quite expensive; needed a few weeks' wages to pay for it. Oh, and I work in.....actually, that's about all I could remember.

I got up and stretched, and headed to my toilet to wash up. I had to go to school after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat up with a start. The sun was high up in the sky already, the sun's rays filtering through the drawn curtain and illuminating the room. Oh shit. I was late for work again.

But hey, sometimes I dreamt too long, right?

There wasn't time for washing up now - I needed to get to work fast, otherwise my supervisor would kill me. Like, literally kill me - by firing me and taking away my rice bowl. I needed this job - it was hard and paid low wages, but being an unofficial child, there wasn't much choice in where to work.

I needed to reach the factory in ten minutes, but it was a forty-minute walk. Dammit.

I put on my shoes without tying my shoelaces, and started to run.

I know I can run. I've been running for my entire life. Thanks to the birth control laws in my country, I had to be an unofficial child, thanks to the mistakes of my parents. That's pretty much sealed my fate - no access to formal education and any other rights as a citizen meant I was destined to waste my life in the cesspool of poverty. This job I had was my only way to buy the meagre amount of food and water required to stay alive. It was hard work to find such a job - if I got fired, I don't think I had the stomach to go through that ordeal again.

"MEI! LATE AGAIN!" My supervisor grabbed my long hair and shook my head. Then he shoved me towards the production line.

"This is your last chance." He whispered in my ear in the deep voice he always used when making threats. "You work overtime tonight. Without extra pay. One more time - fired."

I nodded silently, too numb to even cry. The only thing I could do was to adjust my hair and rub my scalp, trying to ease the pain, then proceeded to start stitching the jackets together.

Why can't I live like my dream? In that big, big house, full of white, clean things? Then go to school, learn about the world? Ride bicycles with friends, laughing without a care in the world? And sleep on a a fluffy mattress?

I looked around me, at my fellow coworkers, silently putting pieces of cloth together. Wearing the plain uniform consisting of a mask, hairnet and apron, unable to discern each individual's features. Cold and uncaring, the silent majority churning out the minority's products.

I will reach out to the world.

I grabbed a stray piece of paper, and started scribbling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What did I write in my dream?

Yeah, I know where I worked in my dream now. Pretty depressing place, really. Don't really wanna go back there.

But what did I write? Was it a message to me? As in - to the real-life me?

Dammit!! Why couldn't I remember such a potentially important detail!!

Actually, if only I decided to fall asleep right after I wrote it....I could have remembered what I wrote.

I put on my jacket, and pulled it closer, shuddering from the chilly morning air.

The hemline seems a little thick. Was there....a piece of paper inside?

I reached for my nearby switchblade, and slowly opened it.

There was a piece of paper inside.

帮我。23 大云街。

It took a long time to get used to the Chinese input option, but I found a keyboard to draw the Chinese characters and enter into Google Translate.

It said: "Help me. 23 Big Cloud Street."

I don't think there's such a thing as a "Big Cloud Street", but I get the point now.

I didn't need to worry about which was the dream life.

I needed to start writing emails to some labour organisations.

#writing #writing prompt #writingprompt #stories #labour #cheap #cheap labour #manpower #outsourcing #cheap manufacturing #factory #sweatshop #china #germany #switching bodies #dream #world

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